November 30, 2018

Non-Fiction

Filed under: Uncategorized — Kyra @ 7:31 pm

Roots

I was sitting at the Kozy Kitchen diner on Coburg Rd., when music started playing through the cheap speakers. The song “Roots” started to play. All of a sudden my heart was racing, and my mind was running. I was brought back to a time I wished to never relive, a time I just wanted to forget.

Down by the Umpqua River with all my cousins, with a sweaty mask on, and the paintball gun in my hand. We have been playing for hours, and these nasty mosquitos won’t leave me alone. It’s starting to get dark now and I think I’m going to head back to grandpas property. I get back and everybody is already there. I stop and get a little frustrated because they left me all alone, but then I realize that they made food and I am way too hungry at this point to care about anything else. I finish my food quickly so I can go wash off all the dirt and sweat that I have accumulated over the last several hours. After I am done I make some smores and then go to sleep because I have big day tomorrow.

I wake up to a little one jumping on my bed, and I decide to have a little fun with this. Out of nowhere I yell at the top of my lungs and scared the crap out of my little cousin. I can’t stop laughing as she repeatedly wacks my arm.

“Kyrraaa you scared me”, my cousin Addie says, laughing and crossing her arms.
I get up and begin to pack up all my things because today is my last day here. We are going to go to the falls with everyone one last time before we leave and head back home.

“Last jump, Roe Roe!” I yell at my little sister who is at the top of what we call the fish ladder. I make my way to the car, and we all get in and are on our way home from a great weekend with the Jones’s. All of us were just swimming and were too lazy to take off our swimsuits, and it was hot enough that we were comfortable in them till we got home.

The drive is about two in a half to three hours from our house, and camping always makes me very tired, so I make sure my sisters are awake, and I blast music and the AC to make this car trip go faster.

I am driving and singing along to the music when I get in the left lane to pass a travel trailer that is going under 60.

“OMG KYRAAAA!”, my sister who is sitting on my right screams. It is too late for me to respond to her.

As I begin to pass them their trailer swings into our front right bumper, sending us flying at 70 miles per hour into the concrete median. Everything is going in slow motion. My brain is working faster than I thought it ever could. So many thoughts are running through my head: Are we going to die? This is mom’s car, she is going to kill me. I can’t hit anyone else. How the hell did I get here? I am subconsciously screaming at the top of my lungs. The rubber part of our tire separates from the metal and makes it nearly impossible to steer the car. Suddenly I remember what my drivers ed teacher had told me.

“If you are ever in an accident do your best to pull over to the right side of the road and then if you can, call 911 immediately,” I recalled.

We are in Memorial Day traffic and I need to pull over. I see my chance and I take it without any hesitations. I get in the next lane and begin to pull over and once I am over, I slam my brakes on. I put the car in park and everything hits me at once. One of my favorite songs, “Roots” is blasting through the speakers and my brain is running at 100 miles per hour. I am shaking. I turn the music off immediately and begin to break down. Tears are pouring out of my eyes. I look at both my sisters and apologize immediately.

“I am so sorry you guys,” I say as if it is all my fault.

“We just got in a car accident?” my little sister says. She is not able to comprehend what just happened. I cry even more. I can’t stop. The tears won’t stop coming.

“Kyra, we have to get out. We have to get out. Someone pulled over behind us. We have to get out and go and talk to them” My twin sister Acacia says. All of this is too much. I can’t think clearly. I can’t think about anything. Except that I am in a swimsuit and I do not want to be crying on the side of I-5 in my swimsuit for everyone to see.

“Acacia, I’m not wearing clothes. I can’t go out there. I am not wearing clothes.” I struggle to get words out.

“I will go and talk to the people while you two get out and put clothes on, but I need you to get out, because the engine could catch on fire.” We all get out of the car and I go to get a dress on.

“Hi, my name is Patty. We saw the accident and my husband Mark is calling 911 right now. They should be on their way soon. Where is the driver? Are your parents okay?” the lady asked me.

“I-I was the driver.” My voice is still shaky.

“Oh my goodness! Sweetheart, you did so well. I’m going to go get some water from the back of our car for you guys, but I will be right back.” As she walked back to her car I think to myself how lucky I am that these kind people have pulled over and are helping us. Patty reminds me of my grandmother, which is making it a lot easier for me to calm down and process what  happened. I should probably call my mom. But right as I am looking for my phone, Patty and Mark come over and begin talking to us.

“Hey ladies, the fire truck is on their way to come help, and my wife just told me the situation. I am so sorry that you are having to go through this. My name is Mark and I am a priest back in California and I just want to ask you guys if it is okay if we say a little prayer?”  

“Of course, we would really appreciate it,” I say. I am not religious, but I can’t think of anything better that we could do. We all get into a circle and hold hands and he begins to pray for us, and for our family. It is kind of relieving knowing that they care enough to pray for us and help us until my mom can get here.

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